


There Waiting for You

by holtzmann714



Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-18
Updated: 2016-08-18
Packaged: 2018-08-09 12:54:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7802665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holtzmann714/pseuds/holtzmann714
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Holtzmann's early life and experiences which shaped her into the Holtzy we know and love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There Waiting for You

Jillian Holtzmann grew up never knowing if she was like her mom in other ways besides appearance.

Her dad kept a shelf of photos of her mother next to the television. Jillian would pore over them, checking off the boxes of attributes she shared with her mother. She was blonde, like Jillian, had blue eyes, like Jillian, and a beautiful smile, like Jillian.

All Jillian remembers about her mom is she was there one day and the next day she wasn't. Her aunt's bracelets clacked as she moved around in the kitchen, putting a plate together for Jillian after the funeral. Cold meat and cheese and pickles, plus a large cookie. Jillian ate but felt all the grown-ups looking at her as they murmured, "Cancer" and "She was so young" and "Poor Robert."

She had memories of her mom but those faded as the years went by. Before long, all she had was the photographs by the TV. Whenever she felt particularly sad, Jillian would take one of them and sleep with it in her bed, pretending her mom was there talking to her.

After the funeral, her aunt--her dad's sister--stayed for almost a month, making sure Jillian ate and bathed and had clean clothes. She doesn't remember seeing her dad any of that time other than a glance into his darkened bedroom when her aunt said he was napping but she thought she heard him crying.

Before she left, her aunt taught her basic household things: how to do laundry, how to make simple meals for herself, and how to clean up if she made a mess.

After her aunt left, Jillian developed a routine from which she scarcely strayed. She went to school during the week: got dressed on her own, ate cereal, made her lunch, and walked to school. The weekends she scavenged through her dad's library for new books to read. She read Treasure Island, the tales of Bluebeard, and most of the Hardy Boys series. 

The school had taken up a collection for her family and every week the principal's secretary called her to the office to distribute the money. Thus every Monday became shopping day. Jillian would walk downtown to the local market. One week, she had too many items and not enough money, but the lady behind the counter winked at her and told her it was all right, to take everything. After that, Jillian always put one item back before she checked out, just in case. Some weeks the woman behind the counter slipped her a chocolate bar or a pack of gum.

One Monday, there was a deluge as Jillian walked to the market and she arrived soaked, but shivered her way up and down the aisles as usual, selecting her items carefully. When she arrived at the counter, the woman looked at Jillian, her clothes soaked with rain and offered she go back to aisle 12 and pick out a suitable rain slicker for herself. Jillian, who was always shy about looking up at the woman or making eye contact with any adult, really, shook her head. "No money for that."

"You need a coat. It's my treat."

At that, Jillian looked up. The woman was older, older than her mother and most of her teachers at school, but she had a kind face. "What's your name, love?"

"Jillian. Holtzmann. What's yours?"

She pointed to her name tag. "Elizabeth. But people call me Beth or Bess."

"Everyone just calls me Jillian."

"Maybe you should think of what you want to be called and make people call you that." She winked at her. Jillian had never even considered that before. "Hey Martin, I'm taking my fifteen." And just like that, Elizabeth (Beth/Bess) slipped down from behind the counter and came around to Jillian, taking her basket out of her arms. "Come on, follow me. Aisle 12."

Elizabeth suggested Jillian get a navy or yellow rain slicker, insisting she would look like the Morton's salt girl, but Jillian shook her head, pointing to the khaki rain jacket instead. "That's for boys."

"So," she shrugged, letting Elizabeth slip it on over her shoulders. She looked up at herself in the mirror. The coat was a little big, but Elizabeth rolled up the sleeves and then they were perfect.

"You're right," Elizabeth told her. "That's a perfect choice."

Jillian smiled, still wearing the coat as they walked up to the counter again.

"How come you're always in here by yourself?" Elizabeth asked, her brow furrowing.

"It's just me and my dad."

"Well. I'm sure he's proud of you, taking care of things like this."

Jillian nodded but she wasn't sure. Her father had finally returned to work a week or so earlier, but he didn't seem to notice anything around him. She wonders what would happen if she didn't buy groceries. Would he even notice?

At least Elizabeth noticed her, Jillian told herself. That mattered more.


End file.
